Page 70 of Rescued by the Single Dad

She wasn’t in love with Monterey. And she knew plenty of other celebrities who didn’t live in California and had successful careers. Many preferred the rural, anonymous life in some small town or on a ranch somewhere in Colorado or New Mexico. And in all honesty, it was what she wanted, anyway. She didn’t want to live the rest of her life in an expensive, materialistic metropolitan of southern California.

But after only knowing this man for two days, she couldn’t say such things.

Not out loud, anyway.

She’d already spooked him by suggesting they do long-distance. Which, in reality, had been a really dumb thing to say after sleeping together once and knowing each other for two days.

Her heart was just so full here. Despite the fact that there was someone out there who wanted her dead, she was happier than she’d been for a good while.

From the outside looking in , her life probably looked pretty perfect. Glamorous and wonderful with parties, a nice house, and designer clothes. But truthfully, Brooke was lonely. She just wanted someone to love her. She wanted to feel safe. She wanted to know that she could trust the people around her with all her secrets—the good, the bad, and the really, really ugly.

She’d never felt so close to a life like that than she did here. With Clint and Talia on the island.

“I guess tomorrow is the day, huh?” he asked.

She wrinkled her nose and cocked her head in confusion. “Tomorrow?”

“Your online order of clothes arrives, so you don’t have to wear my clothes anymore, and your brother gets here.”

She perked up and nodded quickly. “Oh yeah, right.” Today felt like such a long day. It was bizarre that just this morning she got the email from her brother saying that he was on his way. Her throat grew tight at the memory of his email.

“I was thinking,” Clint went on, “that I could head over to the mainland and meet him at the airport. Take him to the police station and we could get the low down together. Then I could bring him here to you.”

She nodded absentmindedly. “And who will you say you are when the police ask?” Because the police would ask. They’d be nosy and suspicious, and if they were anything like the cops she grew up around—dirty and useless.

He frowned in thought for a moment. “Once I pick up Rocco and tell him you’re at my house, I can just say that I’m a friend of Rocco’s. That won’t be a lie. And that he’s staying with me on the island since he needs to be with friends.” His brows dipped together. “There’s not going to be a media frenzy surrounding your brother, is there?”

Shaking her head, she pulled her hand free from beneath his. “No, there shouldn’t be. Rocco hates the limelight and has managed to stay out of the tabloids. We also have different last names. I uh ... I actually changed my last name when I moved to L.A. He’s Rocco Barber. I’m Brooke Barker. I just changed one letter, but it’s made enough of a difference that nobody bothers him. He’s not even in the Wikipedia article about me. Very few people know about him, and if he does surface someone on my PR team is quick to have his name removed.”

“Well, that’ll make things easier,” Clint said. He glanced up at her, his gaze eager and heated. “I really am sorry for running—twice. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just overwhelming, and I have to think of Talia first.”

Swallowing past the tightness in her throat, she nodded and allowed him to take her hand once more. “I understand. She’s my first priority, too. I don’t want that little girl to get hurt at all. She’s pure magic. I hope you know how lucky you are.”

“Oh, I do.” He gave her hand a little tug and leaned forward, pulling her to meet him halfway until their lips met. Hesitation filled her.

He sensed her apprehension, and as his lips hovered beside hers, his warm breath hitting her mouth in soft puffs, he closed his eyes. “I’m not going to run this time. I like you. I want this, and we’ll figure things out as we go, okay?” He opened his eyes, the blue of his irises darkening to an almost midnight shade. He gave her hand another gentle tug.

She blinked, but didn’t move—as much as she wanted to. She was scared. She was opening up to this man, letting down her walls and trusting him. He’d already run from her twice ... and even though he said he wouldn’t run again, she wasn’t sure she could believe him. Every man in her life eventually ran, what made Clint different?

“Don’t hurt me,” she whispered.

“I won’t,” he whispered back. “At least I’ll try not to.”

She nodded and closed that last half an inch of space between them. His lips were soft and warm. His movements were slow and cautious.

They kissed like that for half a minute until the tension in her shoulders eased, and she believed he was telling the truth. That he really wasn’t going to run again. That he wasn’t going to hurt her.

Pulling her hand free from his, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he guided her onto his lap. The memory of her in this position on this couch earlier this morning hit her hard—and something else hit her hard as well. She rocked against his erection and shoved her fingers into his hair, tugging gently as his tongue pried her lips apart and he explored her mouth.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” he murmured, breaking the kiss and brushing his lips along her jaw.

“Mhmm,” she murmured, closing her eyes and letting him scoop her up and carry her upstairs. He didn’t take her to the guestroom, though. He walked past that door and into his bedroom, the one with the big king-sized bed, the balcony, and the en suite bathroom. He set her down gently on the bed.

Nibbling her bottom lip, she watched as he reached behind his head and grabbed the collar of his shirt, tugging it over his head.

Her eyes lasered in on the tattoo that ran from his shoulder over his chest. She swallowed and licked her lips.

His smile grew wily when he saw her involuntary reaction to his beauty, and he reached for the hem of her shirt. “Let’s have a shower, hmm?”

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